The Doll Maker's Dolls
by littletoucan4
Summary: Alice's second body is beautiful. The same, however, cannot be said of her first - her real - body. In her desire to reach perfection, she attempts to master the magical art of doll-making, a mastery that the Vocaloids - in their own pursuit of perfection - would find useful. Disclaimer: Genderswapping.


Disclaimer(s): This is a fanwork inspired by Vocaloid and Touhou Project. There is genderbending in this story.

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"Cool! You have such a realistic body!"

"Quit it!"

"Eeeee!" yelled Hourai as he attempted to pull Marisa's hand from Alice, though his size being less than a foot tall made his efforts useless and his voice a squeak.

"Stupid doll," said Marisa as she swatted Hourai, sending him flying to the opposite wall, where he crumpled down on a tabletop.

"Hey!" exclaimed Alice. "You'll break him!"

"Well, you're good at fixing things, right?" Marisa smirked. "Hell, look at your body - perfect curves an' all despite being made of magic wood or whatever. A far cry from whatever the hell you were."

"Shut up," muttered Alice. But her voice did not carry; she was looking down at the ground.

Anger flooded Hourai's mind. He wanted to do something - anything - anything to wipe the grin off Marisa's face. Mustering his strength, he leapt from the table, flew across the room, and collided with the side of Marisa's head.

"Oww! You damn- you piece of shit!" yelled Marisa.

Hourai felt Marisa grab him with both hands and slam him on the hardwood floor. He could barely make out Alice's protests between the stomps of Marisa's black leather boots. From his right arm he felt a sickening crunch.

There were sounds of shattered plates, and of scuffling toward the front entrance. Hourai heard Alice scream: "Out!" A door slammed.

Alice's face came into view. Hourai was lifted from the floor and gently placed on a table, his upper torso lifted into a seated position. He watched as Alice examined his right arm.

"Oh…" Alice murmured, her brows furrowed. "...Look at what she did to you." Strands of her gold hair hung in front of her eyes, eyes with emerald green irises that reflected the ceiling lights like polished marbles. Her pupils had depth, but seemed strangely shallow, almost as though they did not gaze directly at whatever they gazed at.

Alice raised her pale-white hands and looked at them. "I can't fix you with these hands," she muttered. "I'll be back, okay?" She smiled slightly at Hourai, then walked to a chair and sat down.

The light left Alice's eyes.

Her head bent forward, then fell toward her chest. She stayed where she sat, unmoving. For a while Hourai heard nothing. Then, some sounds drifted into the room, and Hourai heard light, erratic steps approaching from his side. The bedroom door squeaked open, and Alice stepped into the room.

However, this Alice bore only a small resemblance to the girl sitting in the chair. Their differences, up to that day, continued to startle Hourai; this Alice had frayed yellowish hair mixed with locks of dull brown - all of it unkempt, not neatly brushed and curled like the one on the chair - had eyes the color of greenish mud, and, most notably, had a massive set of scars and blisters enveloping her neck and the right side of her face. She stooped as though pressed on by an invisible ceiling and shivered despite the house being quite warm.

Alice glanced at the girl in the chair, then bent down to Hourai. Her hands, yellowed and with skin cracked and dotted with blisters, reached for his right arm.

Hourai watched Alice work on him, replacing the wood in his forearm and reattaching his humerus to his shoulder. She worked deftly, combining speed with laser-like precision, yet with the gentleness of a mother holding her child. He looked into her eyes, which looked back at him, accompanied by a small, inward smile that parted her lips. He looked at her hands, then at those slender-fingered and clean hands belonging to the girl in the chair, then back at hers.

It was only his opinion, but he thought the hands repairing him to be the most beautiful hands in the world.

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Next chapter: Len Kagamine "malfunctions;" Miku Hatsune looks for someone to repair him.

Disclaimers (again): I do not own Vocaloid and Touhou, etc.. This is a fanwork, after all.


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